Rupegia

Chapter 193: Festival of Glories – Part 1

Today is the 25th, Fo, day of Fire. I dream of Krysta's Brazilian barbecue because she knows how to sear the corners and properly roast the fat so that it's always served dripping. It's almost like she's a Brazilian elf herself.

And this helps me wake up full of energy, especially when I have an elven queen deepthroating my Cock as she stares into my eyes with her pair of sapphire jewels. It'd really be a shame to ruin that pretty face of hers, so I grab her head and pull it out so that a few ropes give her a facial, then slam her back down, forcing her to choke on the rest.

Anyway, our days have returned to how they were before: a wake up blowjob, breakfast while being milked, a morning of orb-boosted mana circulation training, a lunch for royalty, and then we disperse to do our own things.

I'm back to researching golem amnesia; Alissa is now leveling up her [Marksmanship] skill; Roxanne is taking a look at the pseudo-elemental mana orbs as she wants to recreate and improve them; Hana is training with the Lordsguard and Companions; Ciel is managing her Health Ministry and helping introduce Lyle's computer "datatower"; Lina is looking into the Looping Winds station as she has now developed an interest in megaprojects, as dwarves are wont to do; Aoi is testing out magnetic coatings for Lyle; and Yunia is catching up on what's going on around our territory.

There's the annoying problem of the bandits in the Riverlands that hasn't gone away. It has only been a month since we sent a knight with some Lordsguard there, so it isn't like this is taking an unreasonably long time, though it sure feels like almost a year has passed already.

We've just been so fucking busy all the time, so now all I want is to enjoy some rest before a timeskip plunges us right into another high-stakes arc aga-… wait, NO!

Please!

Today is the… still 25th, thankfully. There's the Tournament of Glories held every year across the realm at the end of the month of Combat that we must watch before the skip. It's also the perfect event to recruit knights, and we're in dire need of increasing their numbers.

So, after brainwashing-research, we go over to the Coliseum to participate in the opening ceremony just as the sun starts to set.

The building itself is an Imperial construction, but it was made of wood instead of the usual stone, and it has also been decorated in the elven way, turning it into a huge, oval work of art with a bit of sand at the center. It has even been decorated further since we've become Crown Lords since it's now the seat of a king, and people expect us to use it more often since we aren't prejudiced elves who'd only ever come here because we absolutely need to.

The setting sun makes it harder to see at this distance since we don't have huge TVs to give close-ups, but it's fine since we have enough gems to make night turn into day here. The floor of the High Forest is very dark, after all, but maybe we could develop a TV one day with the help of Lyle and the exiled Titans.

Anyway, the opening ceremony is like the Olympics-lite, so I'm rather interested in seeing it. We even have our own booth high above everything, but then my eyes are drawn to a table full of little snacks just waiting for us. There's even coffee and Pão de Queijo, but I had it for breakfast, so I'm more interested in the selection of nuts and dried fruits being offered.

Of course, Teresina has also been invited because I didn't forget about her promise, so I motion for her to approach as I take my throne. She's using a cane to help her walk, but her knees seem to be fine today, for she walks with strong steps towards me.

"You said you wanted to be hugged, right?" I cheekily ask from my seat.

And her eyes open wide as she's unable to hide her surprise. "Y-you can't be…" she mutters stiffly.

"You want to keep our relationship a secret?" I ask semi-seriously.

She frowns, but my levity helps her calm down. "No, but flaunting it wouldn't help my image."

So, I double-up on the cheekiness. "Or would it? Showing that you're capable of affection shouldn't be a weakness. We do want to rule through love, not fear."

And she narrows her eyes at me as she shifts uncomfortably on her feet. "What a cheap argument. Sometimes, we need to deliver a strong hand," the proud gilf sternly replies.

"'Sometimes,'" I repeat and cheekily grin.

But she stubbornly remains standing, unable to leave but also resisting my charm.

So, I try to use a bit of shota sex appeal to get her motherly side to take over. "Please…? You said you'd do it," I beg with cute puppy dog eyes.

Her nickname is "Nai," which means "mother" in Ingua, and it's a fitting one, for I can see her lip tremble as it attempts to smile.

"Sticky, sticky little slime," she mutters, still resisting me.

It seems to be working, so I keep up the youthful air as I insist, "I know you like it, so come on, now. You shouldn't be ashamed of having fun."

Her lips tremble further as they attempt to break free of her cold exterior built with pride. "You just won't accept a 'no,' hm?"

Now she seems to be fighting back, so I push her further, now with a bit of husky seduction as I get serious. "All the time. I hear a 'no' inside my head every time I look at you, but one day, I heard a yes, so I finally gave you a kiss, and you accepted it."

She actually breaks eye contact as I hit her right in the heart. Then she stubbornly grumbles back to maintain her composure, "This is so cheap. You're appealing too much to my emotions."

And I just shrug, assured of my victory. "I don't see the problem with that since you seem to ignore them."

At first, Teresina seemed like a cold wall covered in barbed wire, but I've slowly chipped away at it, revealing a lonely woman who forgot what "intimacy" felt like. Now, all I see is her glorious naked form, completely unafraid of her stern, disapproving stare because I know that, deep inside, she wants this.

This isn't even toxic masculinity speaking. If she really disliked it, she'd just say no and leave, and I even understand that a physically weaker woman wouldn't be able to reject me. But Teresina isn't like that, so I feel no remorse in barging into her personal space.

But she still isn't giving in, so I extend my clawed hand to her while smiling warmly, and she reflexively takes it. It's hard to get angry at someone so cute and kind like me, so her ice melts and allows me to reach her heart, but I don't brag as I gently pull her to me.

She's old enough that her knees are starting to give her problems, so she takes a couple of seconds longer than normal to actually sit on my lap, but then she lets her weight fall on me, and I realize she's surprisingly light. She's basically Roxanne-level due to her height, but she might be even lighter than the frail succubus because Roxxy has been forced to gain at least a bit of stamina to last longer during a Ravaging… and also the battles, of course.

Then the former Punisher gets herself comfortable in my lap, and I bask in her very conservative perfume. It reminds me of grapes, but with a bit of an herbal spice, and it's so faint that it doesn't overwhelm your senses. Still, it's the smell of an experienced woman falling into my arms, and it makes me instantly hard.

I'm never going to hide a boner, so she immediately turns to me and raises a thin, white, questioning eyebrow, but I just smile innocently, daring her to mention my Cock.

"Now, do you want me to talk about what happened while you were away?" she questions, completely avoiding the topic. So I just let my Cock press against her thighs, and there's only three very thin pieces of cloth between us: my underwear, my pants, and her robes.

"Sure, there's some time until the ceremony starts, but try not to just list things you'd put in an official report. I want to hear your commentary," I earnestly answer. I did miss her, and I just want to listen to her mature voice.

And she hums snobbishly like an elf, "Fine… let's start with what has occupied my time the most: your Health Ministry. I've been hearing a lot about it, both good and bad, but the person matches what they say.

"The average laborer loves you, now. They've been using the free clinic visits as much as they can, and they enjoy the idea of their taxes paying for the doctors, which then lets them work for longer and produce more. The 'Holy Cycle of Money' is what they call it, and I find it endearing, except for the 'Holy' part.

"Predictably, the merchants think you're weak for 'emptying' the treasury like this, but the lower class of merchants seems to be content with healthier workers, and they make up most of the Legislative Branch of the Tribunal, so it's good to please them. The larger merchants already know nobody likes them, but they do have some power to bother you, so I advise you to find a way to appease them, though I still remember the talk we had where you said you were preparing to go to war with them…"

And she sighs rather gloomily.

"I keep thinking about how everything around you seems to end in 'war,' and it worries me. I understand you might be doing something similar to the 'Purification,' but even as someone Blessed by the Gods, you need guidance to not make mistakes with lasting consequences. I'm doing my part in preventing unnecessary bloodshed, so I hope you do yours in properly verifying your enemies."

I'm just happy to listen to her going on and on, but now I've gotta make a comment, "Weren't you a Punisher? I thought you'd be more supportive of me cleaning up the miscreants."

And she doesn't approve of it. "Were, Wolf, were. My job is now to protect the well-being of the commoners, and I take my job very seriously."

So I nod. "Apologies, then, but do continue. It's been very interesting to listen to you."

"Yes, I've realized that I do have a lot of things to complain about when it comes to you," she remarks with a surprising amount of sass.

I chuckle. "Ouch, but I won't take it back. Please continue."

And she talks a bit more about the messes that I keep making, but then Caterina appears in our booth, and she stops in her tracks when she sees where her mother is sitting. Hana was waiting for this moment, though, and she calls out to her milfy lover.

"Hello, Caterina," I smugly greet.

"Hello, Your Highness," she politely replies. Then she turns to Hana, who pats her lap, motioning for Caterina to sit on it. "Please, Hanafuria…" she whispers softly as she tenses up, and we get a sense of deja vu.

"You better give up, my daughter. The Ryders always get what they want," Teresina begrudgingly remarks, and Caterina just swallows heavily, then silently obeys.

And this is how the Aurea mother-daughter pair of famous Punishers were seen sitting on the laps of their lovers in public. The people don't have long to stare, though, as the ceremony finally starts because they can't make the royals wait.

A drum roll begins, along with the appearance of dozens of little floating flames in the sky, grabbing the attention of the crowd and silencing everyone surprisingly fast, but I guess that's just elves for you. Next, the four gates, one in each cardinal direction, all open up, and a procession of colorful elven male and female warriors come out.

They seem to be wearing lavish, ceremonial armor, but the truth is that it was actually used in combat a long time ago, and they're supposed to represent the arrogant nobility of old. But not all of them are dressed like that, as there are a small number with less flamboyant armor; it's just that they disappear among the peacocks.

The four lines become two as they seamlessly merge like a zipper, and then they suddenly stop at the same time that the drum roll does. Now, they're just staring at each other, and the air seems to become heavy with tension.

Suddenly, the metallic whispering of swords being drawn echoes across the arena, and the lines suddenly attack each other as a full-blown orchestra begins their number with somber horns at the forefront. The attacks and defenses freeze for a second to make it look more dramatic, and then they move again in sync with the horns, like an epic battle in a slide show.

In true elven fashion, everyone moves as if they were one, performing dangerous tricks with absolute perfection. They show a battle more dramatic than anything we've witnessed (or participated in) in real life, but that may be because it isn't chaos like a real battlefield, and the slow cadence lets us observe the details a lot more closely.

Then the individual attackers and defenders unsync from the horns and follow their own patterns, even spreading out all over the arena. Looking from afar, it's almost like a kinetic sculpture, or one of those trippy gifs (pronounced gui-f, not jif) you'd see on the net. It's actually so mesmerizing that minutes fly by in seconds, and the warriors start to fall one by one.

The "bodies" are quietly dragged away while new warriors are sent in to replace the fallen, and we only realize that the flamboyant ceremonial armors are gone when the music suddenly stops. Then the drum roll begins again, and the warriors reform into two lines, now clearly divided into dark green and dark brown armors.

Then the drum roll stops, and they fight in sync with the horns one last time as the orchestra reaches the climax. Now the warriors that fall are raised back up by their comrades, but the battle slows down as the tension gradually drops. It's like they're getting tired of war and are aiming to just scare off the other side.

And finally comes the last horn, the note played for a long time as all warriors keep their weapons extended in a dramatic pose. Then the lines start to separate, and they orderly retreat through their gates.

Elves don't clap, or at least not usually, so the next act begins almost immediately as war drums are softly hit. Then the gate directly ahead of us opens, and a singular golden-elf man comes out. He's a muscular daddy type wearing only a small loincloth marked with a very long and thick imprint as he walks, and nobody seems to have missed it.

Then the two gates perpendicular to his open up, and a Zinotue and an Ogre come out at the same time that the drums pick up speed. The Zinotue is a huge, spiky tiger that specializes in electricity, while the Ogre has high endurance and even a bit of regeneration. Meanwhile, the dude is weaponless.

But he raises his hand towards the sky, and the little floating flames converge above his palm, turning into a mini-sun, which now seems to have become some sort of [Light Magic], and then the sun shifts into the shape of a longsword. Not-Conan immediately grabs the hilt and assumes a battle stance just in time to receive both monsters as they charge toward him.

The Zinotue reaches him first and leaps upon the smaller prey to completely overwhelm him. But in a blindingly fast move, the warrior slips under it, sliding his glowing longsword along its belly. Then he waves it at the Ogre, stopping it in its tracks. The warrior is in complete control of the situation.

Then he dances between both monsters. His weapon seems to cut, sear the wound, and even heal it a bit, but it doesn't properly rejoin the muscles, so he slowly disables the monsters without causing them extreme pain. It used to be that the sword used for the ceremony was made entirely of fire, but with us being the champions of the Sin of Sadistic Torture applying to monsters, the organizers had to change things up a bit to ensure that they'd keep their jobs for next year's ceremony.

But even though he doesn't take a single hit, the battle is tense, thanks to the war drums, the fact that the warrior is purposely flaunting his dodging capabilities, and how he refuses to dodge the Zinotue's lightning attacks. Still, the battle doesn't last long, and soon, the drums reach the climax with slow but hard hits as the monsters slow down and stop chasing after not-Conan.

He eventually stops dodging and catches his breath for a second. Then the drums stop, and he uses [Muscle Explosion] to turn into a blur as he delivers the killing blows.

Both monsters have their spines severed, and they fall to the floor, limp… and the crowd goes wild.

It was an impressive display of skill. Elves fight as if they were water… I was going to think, "fight in a slippery way, as if they were oiled," but Yunia stopped me from finishing that thought. Anyway, the elven way is fitting for such a long and difficult-to-wield weapon as it requires high "Dexterity," but Not-Conan was also smart enough to never let his opponents overwhelm him with their much larger bodies, which is something I can relate to.

He's supposedly the champion of last year's tournament, and he deserves it.

Now that the two main attractions are over, the actual fighters of the tournament come in for the crowd to gawk at them. There will be more performances later, but these two are the most striking ones. We're here to watch battles, not just people pretending to battle.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM